


A Brother's Love

by sam_kom_trashkru



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellamy Blake is a total history nerd alright don't even argue, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, M/M, Murphy and Clarke are the brotp that nobody really expected, Murphy writes children's books and is a total softie, Soccer, baby Clarke is the sweetest thing on the face of the planet, because everyone is happy and ALIVE (except for jake but yeah), ft. John Murphy as the biggest mama bear in the history of mama bears ever, the bisexual griffin children strike again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-26 18:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6250285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam_kom_trashkru/pseuds/sam_kom_trashkru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Murphy is a scruffy, sarcastic, piece of shit little ten year old with a scar on his nose and much too cynical for his age, dead set on hating everyone and everything in the world when he's taken in by a doctor and a NASA engineer, and this little seven year old puts a flower crown on his head and a bandaid on his nose and worms her way into his heavily guarded heart. </p><p>Or</p><p>Clarke Griffin thinks that the solution for every problem is a bandaid and a little love, who has always wanted an older brother.</p><p>Or</p><p>A princess and a rebel grow up together and find family in one another throughout all the problems life could possibly throw at them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Brother's Love

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to "Dear Theodosia" on repeat and this was born.

From the first moment Clarke Abigail Griffin entered the world, pink-faced and wailing, tiny limbs flailing haphazardly, she became the center of her parents’ universe. Abby Griffin smiled tiredly as the small, sniffing bundle was placed into her shaking arms, and her husband, Jake, was staring at the moment old infant as though she was the most spectacular little thing he’d ever laid eyes on (to them, she was).

Abby and Jake had been trying for two years to have a child, so Clarke was truly a blessing. Regardless of their busy schedules, Abby as Chief Surgeon of Ark Hospital, and Jake the head aerospace engineer for NASA, the entranced first time parents made all the time in the world for their little princess. Before she was even old enough to comprehend the world around her, Clarke was spoiled and adored and so, so loved. Her little hands grasped at at-the-ready too big fingers, and a gummy smile was revealed whenever Jake pulled faces at her, the soft baby giggle often filling the Griffin household much more than the typical crying. But there was crying. A lot of crying. Accustomed to sleepless nights, Jake handled the night runs like a true champion, and nights spent with Clarke cuddled closely to his chest established a strong bond between father and child. 

As Clarke grew in both size and age, so did her bond with Jake Griffin, who still looked at her as if she held the universe in her bright blue eyes. More often than not, he worked from home, claiming that:

“Abby, no nanny in the world could take care of Clarke well enough to reach my standards.”

“That's because you're a perfectionist, Jake.”

“Says the surgeon.”

When Clarke was four years old, all toothy smiles and scraped knees from exploring the world around her, colorful flowers braided into her loose blonde curls, Jake and Abby decided to try for another child. They'd always wanted more than one, perhaps a small brood, maybe three or four, but knowing how hard it’d been for Abby to have Clarke dampened their prospects. They'd settle for two, if they could. 

Clarke was too young still to comprehend the intense joy her parents had experienced upon conception, but had fed off of the positive energy herself. When barely over a month later, darkness and despair settled over the household, Clarke didn't understand that either. 

She’d never seen her parents cry. She was usually the one crying in this family. So when Clarke peaked into the master bedroom, much past her bedtime, to see her mother sobbing into her father’s warm embrace, tears cascading down the usually so happy man’s face as well, Clarke did the only thing her four year old mind could think to do. Small feet carried her to the bathroom, where she reached into the lowest drawer and pulled out two brightly patterned bandaids. 

Upon seeing the tentative four year old enter the room, both Abby and Jake struggled to compose themselves, but Clarke pulled herself up onto the bed with them and very seriously placed a bandage on each of their cheeks, before kissing them both on the forehead and snuggling in between them contentedly. As the family of three cuddled together, comforted by each other’s presence, Abby and Jake silently wondered to themselves what they'd done in some previous life to deserve a daughter as good and pure as Clarke. 

She’s seven years old and still as kind-hearted as ever when the Griffins finally get their second child. It wasn't in the way they initially planned, but they were grateful either way. 

He’s ten years old, with scruffy hair and dark purples and blues coloring his pale, gaunt skin. A puckered, raised scar slashed across his nose, a constant reminder of the pain he’d had to endure. His blue eyes hold none of the light and joy that Clarke’s do. Instead, they hold storm clouds and deep, simmering anger. He’s cynical and sarcastic and rough at the edges, unaccustomed to the affection he was now being shown, heart heavily guarded and as skittish as a feral cat. 

But when this short fireball of energy approached him tentatively, he found himself softening. 

“Hi!” her voice is bright and happy. “My name’s Clarke! I'm your new sister.”

He opens his mouth to tell her that,  _ no, she isn't _ , but the words catch in his throat as she continues, small hands carefully putting a Spider-Man bandaid on his scarred nose. 

“Mama and dad told me that your parents were mean, so you're gonna be a part of our family now. I've always wanted a big brother, y'know, and I'm really sorry your parents were mean to you.” 

John Murphy is ten years old, with scars much too deep for someone his age, but as Clarke brushes his hair and places a specially made flower crown (“ _ For you!”  _ she had cheered, “ _ Flowers make everything better, Johnny.” _ ) and he can physically feel this small girl worming her way into his battle hardened heart. 

It takes him over a year to finally call Abby and Jake his mom and dad (the same amount of time it takes them to file paper for his adoption), but it only takes him two months to call Clarke his sister (she's persuasive like that). 

From that first initial meeting, Clarke and John ( _ Murphy,  _ he insists everyone call him, except for his new family, of course) became inseparable. John was the one who walked Clarke to school, sat patiently while she sketched his face over and over and over, each attempt becoming more realistic than the last. He was the one who let her practice braiding hair on him, leaving in the precisely twisted hair until Clarke told him he could remove it. 

When Clarke was ten years old, and a fellow fourth grader pushed her down at recess, it was John who seemingly materialized out of thin air, blue eyes burning holes into a terrified Sterling, who scrambled to make apologies and promised to never even  _ look  _ at Clarke the wrong way ever again. 

He didn't have a lot of friends, because despite his softness with Clarke, John was still guarded and defensive, but he found he didn't particularly mind. When Clarke introduced him to Bellamy, the older brother of her own friend Octavia, John found a kindred spirit. Bellamy had a fierce look in his eyes whenever he watched Octavia, and John knew that if anyone could understand him, it would be this boy, who would protect his little sister until his dying breath. 

When Clarke was fourteen and started dating her first boyfriend, a floppy haired boy named Finn, John didn't know what to do with himself. He had a bad feeling about the boy, that he knew. Clarke, of course, brushed it off as his overprotectiveness because:

“John, you were ready to punch Monty when I first introduced you to him, and Monty’s  _ gay.” _ Granted, John hadn't known that at the time, he'd just seen a boy holding Clarke’s hand and had been instantly on the defensive. He’d apologized (grudgingly, at Clarke’s insistence) and now regarded Monty with almost fondness, the sharp-witted Korean boy never once crumbling under John’s intense gaze. His partner-in-crime, Jasper, however, was terrified of Clarke’s older brother. 

This time, however, John’s suspicions were confirmed when Clarke came rushing home one day in tears, telling him all about how Finn was dating a girl named Raven, and how he’d cheated on her with  _ Clarke _ , and John saw red. Octavia had been told, of course, as she was Clarke’s best friend, and Bellamy (who was now coming to see Clarke as another sister) was the first to follow a positively murderous John to the boy’s house. 

When Finn showed up to school with two black eyes and a broken arm, nobody batted an eye. He’d had it coming to him, and the floppy haired boy soon transferred schools, desperate to escape the mess he’d created. Raven, the other girl he’d hurt horribly, had quickly assimilated into Clarke’s tight-knit group of friends, and was the only member of the group who could keep up with John in terms of sarcasm and wit. At this point, John, who was seventeen, found himself trapped in the midst of too many girl nights, sighing and pretending to be reluctant when Clarke insisted that he sit down and let her, Raven, and Octavia braid his hair and watch movies with them. (He’d never admit that he knew all the lyrics and dance moves to both  _ Pitch Perfect  _ movies even under threat of death). 

When John graduated from high school along with his now best friend, Bellamy, and recently made friend Nathan Miller, he was able to look out into the crowd and pick out  _ his family _ , the thought making a smile creep across his usually neutral face. Jake was standing up and cheering, saying “ _ That’s my boy!”  _ and Abby had proud tears in her eyes, and Clarke and her friends were cheering just as obnoxiously. The framed diploma hanging on the wall in his bedroom read  _ John Murphy Griffin  _ and he couldn't be more pleased with himself. 

When he left home to attend university, Clarke found herself missing him more than she thought she would. Every morning, she turned, half expecting to hear her brother belting out the lyrics to the latest Taylor Swift song in the shower, only to be greeted by silence. While most older brothers would grow exasperated with their little sisters constantly texting them to update them on their days, John received every text with a bright smile, the picture attached to every text one of the Clarke he’d first met, with missing teeth and a flower crown planted firmly on her head. 

When she was sixteen, Clarke joined the soccer team with Octavia, and John and Bellamy had exchanged groans at the news, because  _ do you know how many sports related injuries happen every year? _ Now, when John returned home every Sunday for family dinners, Clarke offered him a play-by-play of everything involved in soccer politics, and grumbled fiercely every time she mentioned Ark High’s rival school, Polis Academy, and their soccer team’s  _ infuriating  _ soccer captain Anya Forrest and her cousin, Lexa Woods, who took every opportunity to try and utterly destroy Clarke, who played defense. 

Clarke couldn't stand anything about Lexa Woods, from her annoying cocky smirk to her flawless footwork to those  _ green eyes that looked like the gleam of dew covered leaves in early morning _ and her figure that must have been  _ sculpted by the gods _ — _ oh my god did I actually just think that.  _

John was the one who received the panicked call at three in the morning, a frantic Clarke blurting out words at miles a minute that he couldn't quite comprehend, the only thing he caught coming out in a muffled rush:

“— _ John I think I'm kind of gay.” _ She sounded so scared, and he could hear the shaky sobs as she waited for a rejection of some sorts, only to be greeted by her older brother’s chuckle. 

“ _ John this isn't funny, I'm having a crisis.” _

“It’s alright, Princess,” he told her matter-of-factly, “it doesn't matter what genders you're attracted too, I'm not gonna stop loving you just because you're into chicks, and mom and dad won't either. Besides, it’d be a little hypocritical of me, don't you think?” And that was how both Griffin siblings realized the other was bisexual and Abby and Jake hadn't even batted an eyelash at the news because:

“Clarke, honey, nobody talks about how attractive Anna Kendrick is  _ that  _ much without being a  _ little bit  _ gay.”

“Ok mom but you have to admit she's  _ stunning _ .”

“She’s twice your age.”

“That's besides the point, mom.”

“And don't even get me started on your obsession with Harry Styles, kiddo.”

“Dad I am nineteen I'm too old to call  _ kiddo _ , and Harry Styles is too attractive to ignore. Everybody loves Harry Styles.”

Clarke’s group of friends was entirely accepting as well, but she hadn't expected anything else, because they were totally cool with Monty’s sexuality and Harper and Zoe were dating. 

She continued her hopeless pining for two years, Octavia practically screaming at her every soccer match to just  _ say something  _ to the damn girl already, but Clarke refused to make a fool out of herself. Naturally, everyone was a little surprised when it was Lexa who jogged up to them after a particularly brutal match against the Polis Grounders and awkwardly asked Clarke if she maybe wanted to hang out sometimes. 

Lexa got introduced to the Griffin family four months later, the summer before she and Clarke were scheduled to start college at Mt. Weather University, inwardly nervous and fidgety but refusing to show any signs of weakness in front of her girlfriend’s (she still balked at the fact that she had somehow gotten this blonde haired blue eyed goddess to be  _ her  _ girlfriend) family. 

Clarke didn't show how nervous she was, but she practically forgot to breath when John walked into the room, observing Lexa with calculating blue eyes and pursed lips. Right before Clarke was liable to turn blue from lack of oxygen, he nodded once. 

“I approve of her a hell of a lot more than Fuckboy Finn.” After Abby quickly reprimanded him for his language, the two girls let themselves relax, Lexa because she knew that if she could gain the approval of John “I hate everyone who even  _ looks  _ at my sister” Griffin, then the parents would come easily, and Clarke because she valued her brother’s opinion more than anyone else in the world and she didn't want to have to be forced to choose between him and this girl who was quickly finding a spot in Clarke’s warm, open heart. 

When Jake Griffin died in a car crash when Clarke was nineteen, and John was twenty-two, it was as though a dark cloud found its way over the Griffin household. They'd all coped with it differently. Abby buried herself in her work, trying to heal everyone she could in an attempt to stitch together her own wounded heart. Clarke refused to pick up a paintbrush for months, because it had been Jake who had taught her how to hold the tool patiently, showing her how to create life on canvases. John grew quiet where he’d once been loud, retreating into the shell he’d almost forgotten he had. It was Bellamy who coaxed him out of it, piece by piece, and Clarke who made him feel warm and safe again. 

It took a while for the Griffin family to piece itself back together, but they were resilient, and always found a way to push through stronger than ever. John found himself writing a book about the kind-hearted man who had seen a broken boy and patched his tattered heart with bad jokes and piano lessons and self defense classes. Abby gravitated more and more to the children’s ward, leaving brightly colored balloons in their rooms while they recovered so they had something to smile at. Clarke painted and painted and painted until she swore there would be paint stains permanently etched into her skin, creating murals and countless memories of laughter and love and warmth. 

When Clarke was twenty-five and working as a pediatric surgeon, as well as a part time illustrator for children’s books that John put so much thought into, it was John that Lexa came to, as nervous and jittery as she’d been when Clarke first introduced her to the Griffin family, showing him a beautiful ring that she'd picked out that practically  _ screamed _ “Clarke”. 

It was John who walked Clarke down the aisle, eyes just as wet as his mother’s, a bowtie snuggly fitted against his neck and a brightly colored flower crown perched atop his head  _ just for old time’s sake.  _ He nodded solemnly at Lexa when he handed off his baby sister, shooting Octavia, who was serving as Clarke’s maid of honor, a wink, and smiling at Lexa’s best woman, Anya. 

When he returned to his seat next to Bellamy, tears in his eyes and warmth in his heart as he watched his little sister marry the woman she loved, he swore he felt his father’s presence, just as comforting and proud as it always had been. 

Two years later, when it was his own turn to get married, Clarke served as his best woman, marching him down the aisle and delivering him with a quick:

“I love you, Bell, but mess this up and there’ll be hell to pay.” Bellamy had laughed and smiled at John, and the man knew that this was the right decision. With Bellamy, he felt just as safe and warm and loved as he had when he’d first been adopted into the Griffin family, and he pretended to not notice Nathan’s tears from where he stood behind Bellamy as his best man. 

Even in adulthood, Clarke and John were never far apart. Sundays were still reserved for family dinners at the old Griffin House, except now they were a little more busy. The long table that used to hold only four people now held a swarm, as Abby had always has a soft spot for Clarke’s friends. Clarke and Lexa sat across from Bellamy and John, who of course brought Octavia and her husband Lincoln, and Raven and Anya, and Monty and Nathan, and Jasper and his sweet girlfriend named Maya who everyone fell in love with. Once a week, the house that held echoes of a warm, deep laugh and off-key renditions of Taylor Swift songs and much too loud slumber parties were again filled with life and laughter and so, so much love. 

Abby’s pestering for grandchildren was finally answered when Clarke was twenty-nine and John was thirty-two. John smiled as he watched his little sister swell with life, reading his own children’s books to her stomach as Lexa watched on with awe and pride, and when Aden Jacob Griffin-Woods entered the world red-faces, with hair that held Lexa’s unruly curls but Clarke’s golden hue and bright baby-blue eyes, he was instantly adored by his ever growing family. 

Around the time Clarke and Lexa had their second, a brown haired blue eyed little girl named Costia, John and Bellamy adopted their first. He was five years old with curly brown hair and curious brown eyes and the two instantly fell in love, Bellamy especially upon discovering that his name was  _ Augustus _ (ever the historian), or Augie for short. 

Abby had always wanted a small gaggle of children, but was perfectly happy with the two she’d been blessed with, and the others who weren't  _ technically  _ hers but called her Mama G. Sundays were now accompanied by swarms of small arms demanding warm grandma hugs and munching on Jake’s famous chocolate chip cookie recipe, and Abby couldn't be happier. Clarke and Lexa added two more to the mix, twins named Tris and Oliver. Bellamy and John adopted two more, a soft-spoken boy from Haiti named Wesley and a firecracker of a girl from Vietnam named Phuong. Octavia and Lincoln had twin boys named Nyko and Jefferson, who rough housed with Aden on a regular basis. Anya and Raven were mothers to a four year old girl named Elizabeth, who was never far away from Nathan and Monty’s little boy Ian. Maya nursed an infant Demitri to her chest, whose name signaled that he'd one day be a chemist like his father. 

It was hard to find quiet during the chaos, the large house filled with cooking and children playing in the yard and running up and down the worn stairs, but Clarke found her brother sitting on the front porch in their father’s trusty old rocking chair, where he’d often held them and dried their tears, staring into the distance. 

“Something interesting out there?” she asked, sitting on the soft chair next to his that belonged to Abby. John turned for a moment to observe her in the gentle light of the sunset. 

“Just thinking,” he responded. He was forty-seven years old and Clarke was forty-four, and they hadn't changed much since the day they first met. Of course, John had softened immensely with the constant love he’d been surrounded by, and Clarke was still the same, big-hearted and kind and caring. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, big brother,” she teased, and John rolled his eyes. They really hadn't changed that much, their relationship still filled with teasing and competition and so, so much love. 

“If I do, at least I know I've got someone to put a Spider-Man bandaid on me.” The old scar on his nose had faded significantly, as had the negative memories that surrounded it, and as he sat with his sister, looking out at the darkening sky, surrounded by children and nieces and nephews and a loving family, John felt warmth spread through his skin. 

“Going soft, are you?” Clarke’s bright blue eyes were alight with mischief. “Watch yourself, that cute boy named Bellamy might think you aren't cool enough to hang out with him.”

“At least I talked to Bellamy,” John laughed, “you refused to talk to Lexa for two years.”

“And yet I  _ still  _ got married two years before you.”

Yeah. Having a family was nice. They wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. 


	2. Cover Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One time Clarke covers for Murphy and one time he attempts (and fails) to cover for her.
> 
> ft. Niylah and Emori for a hot two seconds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my friend Jade, acawiedersehen on tumblr, told me that I should add onto this and, what with the amazing positive response this story has gotten in the past twenty-four hours, I'm expanding it to add on different one-shots of moments in between, which can be requested in the comments or on my tumblr.

As far as Jake and Abby Griffin were concerned, they had the very best children. 

For the most part, Clarke and John were very well behaved. They did their chores, excelled in school, weren't in gangs, and didn't bicker much. So when Clarke and John  _ did  _ mess around, Abby and Jake pretended not to notice (so long as they were being safe and didn't do anything life threatening). 

Clarke, ever the poster child for innocence, with her long blonde hair and bright blue doe eyes, was John’s perfect cover. When he decided to go to parties, he merely told his parents that he and Clarke were going to spend the night at the Blake household, and Clarke never minded lying about it, because she got to spend more time with Octavia. That, and John and Bellamy almost always ended up back at the Blake house before five in the morning and crashed on the couches, so it wasn't that far from the truth. 

This time, however, Octavia was already at the Griffin household, so John didn't really have an excuse for being out so late. He trusted Clarke to come up with something, however, and allowed himself to fade in a haze of alcohol and sweaty seventeen year olds grinding to the latest explicit rap songs on the radio. 

Clarke and Octavia, not yet in high school, were content to lounge around Clarke’s room, decorated with framed drawings and portraits created through the years, the ceiling reserved for a rather massive mural of the earth. 

“Only a month till school starts,” Octavia huffed, the sharp puff of air pushing strands of long black hair off of her face as she dangled upside-down off of Clarke’s bed. 

“Don't worry, O, I'm sure you'll meet your Troy Bolton as soon as we step foot in Ark High.”

“I better. That movie sets unrealistic expectations for relationships. Why haven't  _ I  _ met a cute basketball player on a ski trip?”

“O, do you even  _ know  _ how to ski?”

“No, but that's besides the point.”

“Really? I'll take you sometime, we’ve got a lodge in Flagstaff that my great-grandfather built.”

“I forget that you're super rich sometimes, I'm holding you to that, Griff.” The two girls continued chatting aimlessly, Octavia discussing in great detail which boys were the cutest and who had the most potential to be boyfriend material, Clarke adding in her own two cents every now and then as she busied herself painting Octavia’s nails. When the clock on her phone read  _ 11:28 _ , Clarke felt the lumbering steps of Jake Griffin as he made his way up the stairs. 

“Pretend you're comforting me,” Clarke demanded hurriedly and a bemused Octavia did so as Clarke stared determinedly at the lights, unblinking, until her eyes started to water. Just as the tears began to pick up, Jake entered the room. 

“Hey Clarke, do you know where John— _ Clarke? _ Are you okay, honey?” Clarke sniffled, inwardly applauding herself on the crocodile tears that were now rolling down her cheeks as Octavia rubbed her back comfortingly. 

“I'm fine,” she hiccuped, “it's just, my back hurts and I have  _ cramps _ and everything hurts and mom’s on call and we didn't have that good dark chocolate so I sent John looking for some but it's taking him  _ forever.” _ Clarke felt a teeny bit bad at how alarmed her father looked, standing there rather helplessly, but Octavia intervened. 

“She’ll be fine soon Papa G, no worries, she just really wants chocolate. You know how it goes.” He swallowed once, nodding, looking relieved at Octavia’s obvious dismissal. 

“Right,” he confirmed, backing out of the room, “I'm sure Octavia has it handled, I won't wait up for John then. Hope you feel better, sweetheart, holler if you need anything.”

“Thanks dad,” Clarke called softly as he shut the door behind him, promptly drying the tears from her face and turning back around to face Octavia, who looked equal parts impressed and confused. 

“When the hell did you learn to act, Griff?”

“It just comes naturally, I guess,” Clarke laughed, “but not all that far off from the truth. My back is absolutely  _ killing  _ me and I ran out of Midol.”

“Dude why didn't you say anything? We’re totally synced up, lay down I'll rub your back.”

“You’re the best, O.”

“Hell to the yeah I am. Now shut up and let me work my magic.” As Clarke let herself relax into the firm pressure of Octavia’s fingers, she quickly unlocked her phone. 

**_Princess 11:34_ **

_ You're lucky mom’s on call tonight and it's only dad home, he’s the only one who’ll buy the pmsing tears.  _

**_Captain Asshole 12:03_ **

_ You’re the best, C. I'll probably be back around one, Miller’s our DD tonight. Dark chocolate with mint, right? _

**_Princess 12:28_ **

_ Yeah, you should probably pick up a few. And a milk with almonds, O’s hungry too.  _

**_Captain Asshole 12:48_ **

_ Your wish is my command, Princess.  _

**_Princess 12:51_ **

_ See you in a few, nerd.  _

Fifteen minutes later, John stumbled gracefully into the house, and lightly made his way up to Clarke’s room, where he tossed a handful of chocolate bars onto the bed. Octavia cheered and Clarke got up, leading her sluggish older brother to his room, forcing him to take his shoes off and brush his teeth. 

Once he’d passed out on the bed, Clarke put two Advil and a water bottle on his bed stand before heading back to Octavia, who was happily munching on her chocolate. 

“So, C, opinions on Finn Collins?”

“I dunno, he seems nice enough, but he’s kinda obsessed with his hair…”

* * *

 

Clarke practically growled when she heard her phone start ringing to the tune of  _ Barbie Girl _ , the telltale sign that her brother was calling her. She was currently preoccupied, an attractive girl peppering open-mouthed kisses on her neck and down to her collarbones. 

“Give me two seconds, it's my brother.”

“It’ll be like I'm not even here,” Niylah laughed with a wink, continuing her peppering kisses on Clarke sensitive skin. 

“Kinda busy, John, what do you need.”

“ _ Hi, Clarke, nice to hear from you too. I'm doing great, thanks, how about yo—oh my god Clarke is someone kissing you right now? Definitely not something I needed to hear. I'm gonna have to saw my ears off now.” _

Clarke scowled and Niylah giggled softly on her skin, John’s loud voice easily heard. 

“Like I said, preoccupied.” Niylah’s hands were currently snaking around her back to deftly unclasp the light blue bra with one hand. 

“ _ I’m glad you're playing this field instead of the soccer one—”  _ Clarke chose to ignore the obvious garb about her refusal to talk to one Lexa Woods, instead pulling Niylah closer to her. 

“I'm sorry did you actually need something?” It was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the other girl wrapped around her at the incessant kisses and sucking, and her hands were drifting lower. 

“ _ Yeah, mom was wondering where you were. I told her you were gonna crash over at mine to work on your mural. So, you're welcome.” _

“Can I hang up now?”

“ _ Yeah that was it. Tell your buddy your older bro says hi.” _ Niylah laughed again as Clarke irritably hung up and flung her phone across the room onto carpeted floor. 

“Now, where were we?”

The next morning, Clarke waltzed into the living room of the Griffin household jovially, whistling a tune under her breath. Her mom’s car was gone, meaning she was on call, and Jake was sprawled across the couch, watching a football game. 

“Morning dad!” Clarke greeted, kicking her shoes off and padding into the kitchen to grab an apple. 

“Morning princess,” Jake laughed, kind blue eyes focusing in on Clarke sharply, “you missed one, by the way, I'd cover that up before your mom gets home.” 

Unsure of what her father was talking about, Clarke slid into the bathroom to observe herself in the mirror, and immediately flushed bright pink. She'd conveniently forgotten to cover a hickey just barely visible under her ear. She could hear Jake laughing at her embarrassment from several rooms over. 

An hour later, after she’d applied ice to all of the visible marks on her body and covered them up sufficiently with concealer, Clarke scowled at her her phone when  _ Barbie Girl _ rang through her room once more. 

“What's up, John?”

“ _ So, what's this dad tells me about forgetting a hickey? Poor form, Princess. I expect better from you.” _

“You mess up once and suddenly everyone points it out.”

“ _ Consider this my revenge for you never letting me use your concealer.” _

“It’s expensive, John, and your hickies are always the size of small continents. Control your partners.”

_ “What can I say, I'm irresistible.” _

“Need I bring up Emori—”

“— _ no words, we don't talk about that.”  _ Clarke rolled her eyes. 

“Was there any reason for you calling me other than to tease me?”

“ _ Yeah, actually, wanna grab lunch today? I'm thinking pho, we haven’t had it in a while.” _

“Sure, pick me up at noon.”

“ _ Will do. And Clarke, make sure to cover up, can't give old people heart attacks.” _

“Bite me.”

“ _ Your lady friend already did that.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Next up is gonna be Lexa and Clarke's first date, as well as John and Bellamy's first date, which should be fun and filled with lots of fluff and awkwardness, as requested by my friend Phaedra (predictabledaydreamer).
> 
> As always, kudos/comments are appreciated, and feel free to hang out and send prompts to my tumblr: [hedaclexa](http://www.hedaclexa.tumblr.com).


	3. Lean in Real Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa explore the universe.
> 
> or
> 
> The one with the space related pick-up lines
> 
> ft.
> 
> Bellamy Blake and John Murphy Griffin: idiots in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Phaedra for the prompt, this one's for you.

For all of her redeeming qualities (of which she had many), one Clarke Abigail Griffin was not known for her ability to compromise. 

Granted, the skill was forced upon her on most occasions, as Jake and Abby didn't particularly wish one of their children to die in a battle to the death over who got to shower first, who got the last pomegranate, who sat shotgun, etc., but Clarke was still by far the most stubborn member of the Griffin family. Which was saying a lot. 

So when Clarke had put her foot down and put into action a vigil of silence, preferring instead to shoot longing, pining looks at the striker with the bright green  _ 12 _ on her back, for what must have been the eighteen-hundredth time, Octavia almost screamed in frustration. 

“So, what you're telling me is because you're  _ scared of rejection  _ you aren't ever gonna approach Ms. Green-eyed wonder over there? And just pine helplessly like a lovesick puppy instead?”

“Yeah, actually, that seems about right.”

Raven had to physically restrain Octavia from smashing her head on the bleachers. 

“Your face is too pretty to destroy.”

“Aw, Reyes, I didn't think you cared.” 

While the two girls bickered back and forth lightheartedly about whatever came to mind, Clarke instead found her thoughts drifting, as they often did, to Lexa Woods. What had started off as a fierce rivalry had turned into admiration and respect, before hurtling off of a cliff at thousands of miles an hour and spiraling down into perhaps the worst crush Clarke had ever had. It just wasn't fair. She was  _ perfect.  _

Her hair was curly and long and it looked so  _ soft _ , always pulled back in intricate braids whenever the girl stepped foot on the soccer field. And her eyes were so,  _ so  _ green. She'd spent hours trying to recreate their exact shade on a canvas, but to no avail. There was something about them that couldn't quite be rendered into paper. Not yet, anyways. 

“Uhhh, Clarke?”

“Not now, Monty, I'm inspired.” Delicate hands reached into her bag to pull out a sketchbook that was never far away, and armed with a piece of charcoal in her left hand, Clarke began to sketch the contours of a face she’d drawn hundreds of times (honestly, Raven and Octavia were growing concerned, but Lexa had become Clarke’s muse). 

“ _ Clarke.” _ His voice was filled with a sense of urgency usually only reserved for when Jasper decided to experimentally mix chemicals that shouldn't ever be mixed, so Clarke took notice, blue eyes snapping up. 

“What is it Mon—” Instead of being greeted by the sight of the familiar Korean boy who was one of Clarke’s closest friends, she instead found her eyes tracing the sharp jawline that she'd just been putting down on paper. 

“Um. Hi.”

Lexa looked different.  _ Nervous.  _ Clarke didn't think she'd ever seen Lexa this I composed before. The usually fierce, unforgiving soccer player had been replaced with someone equally as beautiful. There were a pair of wide, rectangular framed glasses that somehow only made her eyes  _ more  _ stunning, and she was fidgeting, a hand absentmindedly tugging on strands of hair, the other rubbing her shoulder awkwardly. 

It was then Clarke remembered how to talk. 

“Hi, Lexa,” she said brightly, too brightly, hoping the brunette didn't notice the strain in her voice. Octavia and Raven, however,  _ did _ , notice, shooting her shit-eating grins that she wanted to tackle right off of their faces. Monty looked terrified for her, though. “What can I do for you?”

For a few moments, it looked like Lexa was at war with herself, before finally gathering some resolve or courage or  _ something _ and opening her mouth once more with conviction. 

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out some time. On a date. With me.” A date. With  _ Lexa.  _ Clarke’s inability to register the words over the intense, bubbling joy that  _ Lexa had just asked her on a date _ apparently sounded a lot like rejection, and Lexa began fidgeting again. “I mean, it's alright if you don—”

“ _ Yes.” _ Clarke cut her off with a bright smile, before hurriedly scratching her number onto the corner of the page in her sketchbook and ripping it out. “I'd love to go on a date with you, Lexa. Text me?”

Lexa looked as outwardly astonished as Clarke felt, somehow equally as amazed that she’d managed to score a date with this blonde haired blue eyed  _ goddess _ , opting to ignore the snickering of the two brunettes behind her. And then she was grinning like an idiot, accepting the offered piece of paper as though it were the most precious thing in the world. 

“Yeah,” she confirmed breathlessly. “I'll text you.” Before she lost her nerve, she leaned in quickly and softly pecked Clarke on the cheek. “Until then.” And then she darted away. 

Clarke, still gobsmacked, stood there grinning ear to ear, a charcoal stained hand reaching up to touch the spot on her cheek that felt warm and tingly and nice. 

“I'm sorry, but what the  _ fuck  _ just happened?” Octavia demanded, partly relieved that the hopeless pining would finally come to an end, partly confused as to what has just transpired. 

“Griffin’s got game is what just happened, apparently,” Raven whistled, “scored the girl without even saying two words to her. I'm impressed.” Clarke flushed bright pink, shoving Raven on the shoulder. 

“Shut up.” The smile never left her face. 

John Murphy Griffin had never seen his little sister look quite so nervous. 

Sure, she’d been a wreck when she went on her first date with Fuckboy Finn, but  _ this _ , this was a whole new level of nerves. Her room looked like a warzone. Clothes were strewn across the floor, on her bed, every surface covered in discarded articles that apparently weren’t good enough for the night’s activities.

“Wow, Princess,” he whistled, leaning across the doorframe, “you’re a wreck.” Clarke turned and scowled at him, blue eyes flashing in warning, and he held up his hands in surrender.

“Are you going to help me or are you just going to stand there and look pretty?” she demanded. 

“Don’t you have Raven and Octavia for things like this?” he muttered, picking up abandoned pieces of clothing and piling them in a corner of the room to allow him space to walk.

“Yeah, but they were being annoying so I kicked them out.”

“And I’m  _ not  _ annoying?”

“You are, but I can just mention the Emori Incident to shut you up.” John scowled, lobbing a balled up t-shirt at Clarke’s head, which she dodged with ease.

“You promised to never mention that again.”

“I lied.” He approached the nearly emptied walk-in closet with apprehension, eyes scanning for potential outfits.

“Do you even know where you’re going?”

“She says it’s a surprise, and told me to dress casually.” Dark blue eyes snapped to meet light ones, and John sighed heavily.

“And yet you’re  _ still  _ this concerned over what you’re wearing?” Clarke’s responding shrug was answer enough. “Listen, Clarkey-poo, I love you, but if things go the way you doubtlessly want them to, clothes won’t be an issue.” Clarke flushed hotly, throwing a shoe at her brother, grinning when he yelped in pain as it struck his stomach. 

“Need I remind you ―”

“―nope, no need to remind, let’s get you dolled up and ready, little sister.”

Clarke decided privately that all the fuss was worth it when Lexa picked her up, eyes widening slightly and jaw agape. Clarke felt her self-confidence soar through the roof. Definitely worth it. But her eyes were only for Lexa, hungrily drinking up the sight of her, there and real and yearning for  _ Clarke _ , of all people. 

It was a perfect first date.

They’d been talking non-stop since the two of them exchanged numbers, so they knew enough about each other for conversation to flow easily as they drove, dramatically singing along to all of the songs on the radio, content in just being together. About three-quarters of the way to their destination, Clarke realized where they were going. 

Exodus Planetarium.

She’d mentioned the place only once in passing, after explaining that her father worked for NASA and that she was completely enamored with space, the universe, the stars, everything. Clarke felt her heart flutter rapidly as soon as she saw the sign in the distance, turning to look at Lexa and seeing the soft smile already in place on the girl’s face (Clarke wanted to do nothing more than lean over and kiss her, but she supposed that wasn’t exactly the safest for driving). 

“You remembered.”

“Of course I did,” Lexa responded, turning to once more look at the road, “you were very excited about space.”

“That’s because space is  _ cool _ .”

“It is indeed.”

Clarke spent the entire evening dragging Lexa around the planetarium, listing off facts at miles a minute, explaining the complexities of the universe through excited chattering and wide hand gestures. Lexa found herself paying attention to the blonde in front of her more often than the actual words, but still found herself in awe of everything Clarke was showing her. 

And then there were the space related pickup lines. 

“Hey girl, are you the sun? Because you’re the center of my universe.”

“Oh my god Lexa we’re already on the date you don’t need to keep using pickup lines. Did you specifically make sure you had space ones for tonight?”

“I like to be prepared.”

“Hey Clarke.”

“Yes, Lexa?”

“Are you made up of dark matter? Because you’re indescribable.”

“ _ Oh my god _ .”

“How does it feel?”

“How does  _ what  _ feel, Lexa?”

“To be the only star in the sky.”

“Lexa there are literally  _ so many― _ this is another pickup line. How many of these do you know?” 

“Was your father a thief, Clarke?”

“Huh? No, we discussed this, he actually―”

“Because I saw him steal all of the stars out of the sky and put them in your eyes.”

And so,  _ so  _ many more. By the end of the night, Clarke’s cheeks hurt from laughing so much, eyes bright, hand firmly entangled with Lexa’s own as the brunette walked her to the front door of the Griffin house.

“Hey Lexa?”

“Yes, Clarke?”

“Thanks for tonight, it was out of this world.” Lexa’s responding smile was so bright and genuine Clarke thought she might melt, and as she leant in to finally (FINALLY) capture those soft lips with her own, both of them smiling into each other, Clarke decided that she wanted to go on many, many more dates with this green-eyed, curly haired  _ dork. _

* * *

 

Bellamy and John’s first date was very different from Clarke and Lexa’s. Sometimes they wonder if there was even a first date at all, because they simply  _ were _ . Always had been.

For one, they were best friends before they were romantically involved, and even before Bellamy summoned up the courage to ask John on an actual date, they were friends with benefits, though they spent one too many nights in each other’s company cuddling post-orgasmic bliss to just be having casual sex. 

It took them much too long to realize that they harbored mutual adoration towards each other, and the realization only took place at Clarke and Lexa’s wedding. They are twenty-eight years old, had known each other for fifteen, been best friends for fourteen, and on-and-off lovers for three years. 

And it took Clarke literally  _ shoving  _ her older brother into Bellamy’s arms for a dance for them to finally get their heads out of their asses.

“This is nice,” Bellamy said as he led John around the dance floor.

“What, the wedding? Of course, only the best for Princess, after all.”

“No, well, the wedding’s amazing,” Bellamy said, continuing to move to the beat of the music, “but I meant this, us.” John’s blue eyes snapped up to meet Bellamy’s brown ones, searching for the unspoken words.

“Going soft on me now, Blake?” John teased, and Bellamy rolled his eyes.

“You’re an ass, Murphy.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, would you?”

“No I wouldn’t,” Bellamy agreed, moving a hand to brush a few strands of hair out of John’s eyes, an action that seemed innocent yet was intimate in ways some people would never understand. “You may be an asshole, but you’re  _ my  _ asshole.”

“Oh? So I’m yours now?” The words are riddled with challenge, and Bellamy leans down and quickly presses a kiss to John’s forehead.

“You are nobody’s but your own,” he assured, “but, if you’d allow it, I’d like you to be mine.”

“Bellamy Blake, I thought you’d never ask.”

It starts off painstakingly slow, because they have a lot of time to make up for. Coffee dates, where they spend hours talking and just enjoying the familiarity of one another. Movie nights cuddled up for warmth and comfort, wholly at ease with each other. Early morning breakfasts and sleepy smiles and  _ five more minutes _ and routine and attending sunday night dinners together, much to Abby’s intense delight. 

They move in together a year after what is affectionately called the Clexa Wedding, and adopt a scruffy mutt that they name Hamilton, because Bellamy is  _ obsessed  _ and their entire friend group is slowly falling prey to the wonders of rapping founding fathers. 

It is John who proposes to Bellamy, because:

“If I left  _ you  _ to plan it, we’d be dating ‘till we died, you’d never get around to it, slowpoke.”

Their wedding is a quiet affair, not nearly as big of an ordeal as Clarke’s, but that’s how the two men like it. Simple, like their relationship. It is close and happy and familiar and warm and loving and that is all that the two of them really need. Hamilton wears a little suit and wags his tail happily at the end of the aisle, and Clarke walks him down the aisle, and Abby is smiling and crying and Bellamy is waiting for him with tears and his eyes and a smile plastered on his face and John can practically  _ feel  _ the love surrounding him.

Every time he looks at Bellamy, he feels the small, scared, unloved little ten-year-old boy retreat further and further back into the recesses of his memory. 

He knows that with this big puppy of a man with messy black curls and playful eyes and so many freckles is his definition of home, and safety, and  _ love _ . And John wouldn’t trade that for anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently, there are no other prompts lined up, but I have the promised Ski Trip in the works (Octavia would never forgive me if I forgot it), as well as an Aden-centric chapter. As always, comments/kudos are greatly appreciated, and I've been blown away by the amazing positive response this story has gotten in the past two days! You guys make writing worth it.
> 
> Come hang out at my tumblr, [hedaclexa](http://www.hedaclexa.tumblr.com) where you can cry with me about the trainwreck that was 307, just generally obsess about Eliza Taylor or ADC, and send in prompts that you want to see in this story.
> 
> Cheers!


	4. Baby Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First kids are always the hardest.
> 
> or
> 
> Aden & Augie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit of a shorter chapter and I know I said Ski Trip first, but this one was in my head so I wrote it first. Ski Trip next, promise.

When Clarke and Lexa are both twenty-eight, they decide that they want to have a baby. 

It’s possible now, due to innovation in technology, but extremely time consuming and so, so expensive, but the two of them are willing to try. They want nothing more than to bring new life into the world as a celebration of their love for one another. A baby would be the perfect addition to their family (and besides, Abby had been pestering them for grandchildren for four years now). 

It takes longer than they initially thought it would. The first two attempts fail, and the couple began to lose hope, but the third attempt  _ stuck _ . 

Lexa came home from a long day filling out paperwork and preparing for a rather sensitive case, and noticed a small wrapped box sitting on the counter as soon as she walked in the door.

“What’s this?” Her tone was equal parts curious and amused, and her stunning wife just grinned at her, motioning for her to open the box. Lexa did so, long fingers carefully peeling the tape off of the paper as to not rip it, and then painstakingly unwrapping the box (Clarke had no patience for these sorts of things, and usually tore into presents, but Lexa was as methodical as ever). The first thing she saw was a card, light green and unassuming, which she picked up with mild bemusement. 

Her heart stuttered when she read the words on the front.

_ What is a mom? _

Green eyes sought out Clarke’s, wide and unsure and so, so hopeful, and Clarke nodded, encouraging Lexa to open the card. Shaking hands did so, and upon reading the inside of the card, Lexa felt herself stop breathing.

_ You. You is a mom. _

“Does this mean ―”

“Look in the box.” Hidden under a few pieces of tissue paper was a pregnancy test that had two dark lines going down it.  _ Pregnant. _

Lexa launched herself at Clarke, laughing and crying at the same time, spinning around her equally ecstatic wife and peppering kisses all over her face, trailing down and lifting up her shirt to kiss the smooth skin of her still flat belly, eyes wide and hopeful and so damn  _ happy _ .

They tell everyone else at the same time.

Sunday dinner nights at the Griffin household were filled with merriment and lots and lots of food, but this night, each person received a small wrapped box, filled with mugs that read things like  _ Best Grandmother, Best Uncle, Best Aunt, Best Godmother,  _ etc., and once everyone realized what was going on, Clarke was being bombarded with hugs, especially from her older brother, who looked as though someone had dropped a brick on his head, and everyone was happy and crying and so very excited. 

The part Clarke  _ wasn’t  _ looking forward to, however, was being treated as though she were a porcelain doll. 

Lexa was with her every possible moment she could be, constantly asking questions like  _ are you sure you’re fit to work?  _ and  _ do you need help?  _ and  _ do you need anything? _ At first, it was endearing, but then it got annoying. (She was thankful for all the times Lexa held her hair when she emptied her stomach into the toilet, though). If it was even possible, John was  _ worse _ . He called her every other hour to check up on her, claiming that he needed to insure his future niece was well taken care of.

“They could be a boy, John.”

“ _ I’m pretty sure you and Lexa only have XX chromosomes, so…” _

“Yeah but there’s a really complicated insemination process coupled with Lexa’s genetic―actually, don’t worry about the process, I don’t even fully understand it, but, rest assured, they could be a boy.”

Clarke marvels as she slowly watches her stomach expand, still amazed that there is something  _ alive  _ inside of her, something that is equal parts her and Lexa, and every day her love for her unborn child grows, alongside her love for her adoring wife. Lexa whispered confessions of adoration to the swelling bump, tracing letters on Clarke’s belly and peppering soft kisses on the smooth skin. 

Lexa, Clarke soon decides, is an absolute  _ saint. _

She deals with Clarke’s mood swings like an absolute champion, and goes on midnight food runs to pick up the oddest things in order to satiate her wife’s cravings. And Clarke reflects on just how  _ lucky  _ she got with this one, filled with horrible pickup lines and hearteyes and so much love. 

By the time Clarke is so large that she can no longer see her own toes, the whole patchwork family are both apprehensive and very excited for the first addition to the next generation of Griffins, and Clarke is once more treated like glass.

When Aden Jacob Griffin-Woods entered the world red-faced, with hair that held Lexa’s unruly curls but Clarke’s golden hue and bright baby-blue eyes, he was instantly adored by his ever growing family. He came three weeks early, nearly scaring his mother and grandmother half to death when Clarke calmly walked into the living room on a sunday night dinner and announced that her water had broken and could they  _ please take her to the hospital now. _

From the first moment he opened his little mouth and started crying, he was the center of Clarke and Lexa’s universe, and Clarke now understood how intensely her father had felt for her in his life, and how her mother loved her still. The bond between parents and children was truly beautiful. 

He was small and he was fragile but he was  _ loud _ , and his personality was so much like Lexa already. A little fighter, he was, struggling against the confinement of his swaddles and frowning when little hands had to be covered in socks to prevent him from scratching himself. He was energetic and healthy and so filled with life.

While Clarke and Lexa had to deal with morning sickness and mood swings, swollen feet and a lot of stressful nights, Bellamy and John had to deal with something much different in regards to their first child. 

Augie came to them five years old, his paperwork finalized soon after Clarke and Lexa had their second, dark-skinned with vitiligo and curly brown hair and curious brown eyes that were bright and hopeful regardless of all he’d suffered. When Clarke and Lexa dealt with sleepless nights due to hunger, Bellamy and John were often woken by a crying Augie crawling in their bed to snuggle up between them, woken up from the nightmares of his past. 

He reminded John a little too much of himself, and it broke the man’s heart. 

One night, the older Griffin sibling pulled a sniffling Augie onto his lap and brushed his tears away gently with the corner of his shirt.

“Hey, bud,” he soothed, “it’s gonna be alright.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah,” John assured, “you see that scar on my nose?” It had faded with time, as had the memories that accompanied it, but he could still remember the flash of the knife and the panic that followed as he tried desperately to escape. At Augie’s nod, he continued. “That scar was given to me by a bad man, one who was supposed to love me, but didn’t because he was mean.”

“Like my father.” It broke John’s heart, that someone this small and so sweet and so amazing had to go through the same things that he had once had to endure.

“Yeah, but you know what happened?”

“What?”

“I got adopted,” John responded, whispering conspiratorially, “by a NASA engineer and a surgeon, and they had an annoying daughter with blonde hair and blue eyes who thought she could fix everything, and you know what she did?”

“What?” Augie’s eyes were wide, hanging onto John’s every word.

“She put a bandaid on my nose and flowers in my hair and told me everything was going to be alright, and it did. Now you’ve got me, and Bell, and we love you so, so much, Augie.” The boy looked up at John, searching for something, and for a moment, looked as though he was going to start crying again, but then small arms wrapped themself around John so tightly, and the man felt like crying again himself.

“Love you papa.” The words were muffled against John’s neck, but he felt his heart swell as he gripped at his child tightly, rubbing comforting circles on the small of his back to show him just how loved he was. “And dad, too.” 

Bellamy came home to the two most important men in his life cuddled up together, still finding comfort in one another, and scooped them into one of his patented bear hugs, and the family was happy and warm and  _ safe. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Kudos/comments always appreciated, and, once more, thank you guys SO MUCH for the overwhelming support of this little fic! Send in prompts/come hang out on tumblr: [hedaclexa](http://www.hedaclexa.tumblr.com).


	5. Start of Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleven idiots on a mountain. What could go wrong?
> 
> or
> 
> The one with the the Great Unpacking War and HSM.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was stubborn in being created for some reason, but here it is! At last! Octavia meets her Troy Bolton! Protective gf Lexa makes an appearance here, too.

“WE’RE BACK, BITCHES.” 

“Octavia, you’ve never even  _ been  _ here before.”

“That’s besides the point, Clarke, let me have my moment.”

True to her promise the summer before freshman year of highschool, Clarke had organized a ski trip to the family lodge in Flagstaff in the middle of prime snow season for the winter break of their first year at college. It also didn’t hurt that the Forrest family had a cabin not too far from the Griffin lodge, so she’d be able to meet up with her girlfriend and her family in the village.

“Calm down, Blake Junior, and help unload the van.”

They’d made the flight from Washington DC to Phoenix without a hitch, renting a rather enormous van to fit all of their luggage and the the eight of them, and driven up to Flagstaff. John and Bellamy had taken turns driving, the twenty-two year olds claiming that they didn’t trust the “reckless freshies” to not drive them off of a cliff. Miller solemnly agreed to him, earning the smirking junior to be punched in the arm rather soundly by his now five-month boyfriend Monty. 

The drive had been far from peaceful.

Raven had coerced John to stop at a convenience store and had somehow bought more candy than she could hold, and being trapped in a car for several hours with a sugar-high Raven, Octavia, and Jasper was a recipe for disaster. John had threatened to abandon them on the side of the road  _ at least  _ eighteen times, but in the end he’d just had to suck it up and deal with three hyperactive nineteen-year-olds who still acted like they were four sometimes. 

“Ugh. Unpacking.  _ So  _ fun.”

John shot Octavia a look that clearly said  _ if you don’t start unloading right now I won’t be responsible for what happens to you _ , and the younger Blake realized the precarious situation she was in and instead opted to start unloading the van with the others. 

After a frenzied session of unpacking, the eight young adults were slumped in a pile of exhaustion in the large lounge area of the lodge. Somehow, unpacking had become a competition, which had ended in all-out  _ war _ . It was inevitable, especially seeing how competitive everyone in their little group was.

John was sporting a rather impressive black eye, sprawled out across the ground with Bellamy slumped over him, the two sharing an ice pack as they nursed head wounds. Raven, in an attempt to slow down her competitors, had somehow managed to create short-range concussive  _ explosives _ out of  _ who knows what _ (frankly, Clarke didn’t want to ask) as well as a shock-baton out of a broomstick, some wires, and a toaster (it made no sense, but Raven was sort of a genius). Octavia had found Clarke’s supply of charcoal and smudged  _ war paint  _ on her face, and used oranges as her weapon of choice against a power-crazy Raven and a very annoyed Bellamy and John.

Monty and Jasper, in an attempt to out-genius Raven, had quickly cooked up some flash-bombs and smoke pellets (again, Clarke didn’t even want to ask) and Miller had been Monty’s human bulletproof vest. At this point, half of the paintings in the lodge were crooked or on the ground (miraculously, none of them were destroyed, Clarke would have actually killed them), there was a Bellamy-shaped clean space on the wall, the area around it covered in black dusty residue, and discarded oranges  _ everywhere _ .

Clarke, who was buried underneath an exhausted mechanic and martial arts instructor, finally found her phone, lodged underneath one of the couches in the lounge, and fished it out with great difficulty from her position beneath Raven and Octavia. She groaned softly when she saw all the missed text notifications.

 

**_Commander Hearteyes <3 11:15_ **

_ Welcome back to Flagstaff! I can see you guys unpacking. We should do something as a group tonight, maybe go down to the village? Text me. _

 

**_Commander Hearteyes <3 11:47_ **

_ Why did Octavia just run out of the lodge screaming bloody murder and is that John chasing her? Why does John have a baseball bat??? Clarke??? _

 

**_Commander Hearteyes <3 11:52 _ **

_ I have so many questions. _

_ Why do Monty and Jasper have a bucket full of sludge? _

_ DID BELLAMY JUST JUMP OUT OF THE WINDOW? _

_ Oh thank god he landed in snow. _

 

**_Commander Hearteyes <3 12:08_ **

_ I just saw you run across the hall Clarke what are you doing _

_ You realize we can see you from our balcony _

_ Clarke what’s happening _

_ Clarke why is Raven chasing you with a broom _

_ IS THE BROOM FIZZING OR AM I GOING CRAZY _

 

**_Commander Hearteyes <3 12:15_ **

_ I’m pretty sure Raven just pushed Jasper out of another window. _

_ Oh Monty’s getting revenge now. _

_ Did you die? I haven’t seen you run around in the past seven minutes. _

 

**_Commander Hearteyes <3 12:29_ **

_ ARE THOSE EXPLOSIONS _

_ CLARKE ABIGAIL GRIFFIN ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW _

_ THAT’S IT WE’RE COMING OVER _

 

As if on cue, as soon as Clarke finished reading the concerned texts from her girlfriend, there was a loud pounding on the door, causing the fallen group of friends to groan in synchronization, mainly because they all had killer headaches at this point. 

“OPEN THE DOOR!” Clarke whined helplessly as she pulled Raven further over her head in an attempt to muffle the noise, mumbling for someone to get the damn door already, but before anyone could move, the door burst open on its own accord, and a tall, dark, muscular man identifiable as Lexa’s older cousin, Lincoln, entered warily, as though something was going to come out an attack him.

“ _ Hellooooo  _ tall, dark, and handsome.” Even from her spot tangled up with Clarke and Raven, Octavia could still get a look at the older Forrest sibling, his younger sister Anya trailing behind him. Lexa rushed in after the two of them, stopping short when she took in the sorry sight before her.

“What did you get us into when you started dating blondie,” Anya complained, pursing her lips, “we could have been relaxing, sipping cocoa, but  _ no _ , we have to go make sure that none of these idiots have died.”

“Babe!” Clarke said, as cheerily as she could muster, shooting Lexa a genuine, albeit exhausted smile, still trapped underneath her two best friends. “My hero!”

It took an hour and the combined efforts of Lincoln, Lexa, and Anya to weasel the full story of what happened out of the eight bruised and battered veterans of the Unpacking War. Monty, who was the most uninjured of the bunch, mainly due to Miller being his human shield as well as the fact that nobody really wanted to hurt Monty (“He’s a cinnamon roll too good for the world, too pure,” Raven had dramatically recounted), helped the three of them pick up the pieces of the others, gathering more ice packs and bandages (Bellamy had a particularly nasty gash above his eyebrow).

“How exactly did this start again?” Lexa asked after they’d managed to get all eight friends off of the ground and onto more comfortable spaces, her hands busying themselves playing with Clarke’s hair, the blonde girl’s head situated in her lap as they cuddled up together on one of the couches.

“Well,” Monty started after a pause, “I don’t really know. Octavia was complaining about being bored, and John was about ready to murder her, so I think it was he who suggested they turn it into a competition to see who could unpack the fastest. Octavia, of course, took this as a challenge, you don’t want to see her during the Blake Cup competitions over the summer, and shoved Raven out of the way in an attempt to get to her room faster? And Raven, of course, took this as an insult to her character and decided to seek revenge and that’s when shit  _ really  _ hit the fan.”

Lexa nodded along to his story, only half listening. The majority of her attention was focused on the blonde haired blue eyed angel snuggled into her side, humming contentedly while Lexa’s fingers twisted through soft tresses and gently massaged her scalp. Anya and Raven were having a glare-off in the corner, the former blaming the latter for the disruption of peace, and Raen just because she liked picking fights with people. Octavia had attached herself to Lincoln’s side like a monkey, but the teddy bear of a man wasn’t complaining in the slightest. 

“Baaaaabe.” Lexa smiled softly when Clarke’s soft voice reached her ears, green eyes flickering downwards to meet blue ones. 

“Yes, Clarke?”

“I think my idiots are enamored with your idiots,” she whispered conspiratorially, and Lexa nodded solemnly, stifling a giggle.

“Must be the family charm.”

“I mean, I’d date both of them.” Lexa raised an eyebrow questioningly, fingers ceasing their ministrations, causing her girlfriend to whine, before quickly realizing her mistake. “But you’re my favorite, babe. Nobody outshines your beauty.” Successfully mollified, Lexa continued to play with Clarke’s hair, finding peace in the moment of silence. It wouldn’t last long.

“Octavia! How could you! My best friend! I never expected you to betray me this way.”

“Calm down, Griff, it’s just a sport.”

Lexa winced at Octavia’s words. Clearly the younger Blake sibling wasn’t aware of the intense feud between skiers and snowboarders. Clarke looked wholly offended, mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish, and the brunette couldn’t help but giggle slightly at how ridiculous her girlfriend look. A sharp look directed at her made the giggling stop as soon as it started. 

“Don’t even start, Lex, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am on your side, Clarke,” Lexa affirmed, pressing a kiss to the blonde’s forehead, “you have a whole week to convert Octavia to the superior sport of skiing, let her make her mistake early on.”

“Hey!” Lincoln protested, his own board in hand. “Snowboarding is obviously the better of the two!” The week, as it turned out, was going to be anything other than peaceful. Clarke, John, and Lexa had taken to teaching all those who wished how to ski, alternating between teaching and escaping to go down the more difficult slopes by themselves. Lincoln and Anya managed to snag Octavia, Jasper (“well at least now your stupid goggles will be of use for something”), and Bellamy (John had pledged to pelt him with as many snowballs as he possibly could for the betrayal) over to the Dark Side of snowboarding. 

The older Blake also joined the snowboarders out of a moral obligation to watch Octavia and, by extension, Lincoln. Lexa’s cousin had proven himself to be an absolute sweetheart, but Bellamy was obligated to hate everyone that his little sister expressed even remote interest in. She, of course, refused to be babied, and her brother’s overprotectiveness only spurred her to pursue Lincoln even harder. 

On the third day of skiing/snowboarding, Raven decided that her skis weren’t going fast enough, and somehow managed to rig them to propellers, shooting her through the snow at breakneck speeds, the hispanic girl hollering like a mad woman the entire time, entirely too pleased with herself. Armed now with the fasted skis of the bunch, she spent the majority of her time zooming past Anya and pelting the older girl with snow and then cackling with glee when she was able to successfully avoid retribution.

Lincoln, as Clarke found out from Lexa, was the same age as Bellamy and John, and attended Mt. Weather University with them. He’d been accepted into the school on a basketball scholarship, and was majoring in both business and early childhood education. When all eleven of them  _ finally  _ went down into the village, and Octavia discovered a karaoke bar, something inside Clarke’s head clicked.

“Oh my god.” Lexa, who had pulled Clarke into her lap, tapping her foot to the beat of the music, humming as Octavia dragged Lincoln onstage to sing something, turned her head to look at her girlfriend questioningly.

“What?”

“Lincoln is Troy Bolton.” The green eyed girl paused and blinked, head tilted slightly in confusion.

“Come again?” Clarke was shaking with laughter at this point, leaning further into Lexa for support.

“Before high school, I promised,” she sputter out between laughs, “I promised Octavia that I would take her to the lodge so she could meet her Troy Bolton. Lincoln is Troy Bolton. They’re singing karaoke and he plays  _ basketball _ oh my god I’m the best best friend  _ ever _ , she’s literally living high school musical right now… in college but that’s besides the point.” Lexa’s eyes widened in understanding and she, too, joined Clarke in their fit of giggles.

“Hey Clarke?”

“Yeah, Lex?”

“My head’s in the game, but it’d rather be between your thighs.” There was silence for a few moments before Clarke smacked Lexa’s shoulder exasperatedly, pressing soft kisses on the girl’s neck.

“That is the most awful thing I have ever heard, and I sit through your ridiculous pickup lines every day.”

“But it worked, didn’t it? You’re kissing me.”

“You’re a dork.”

“Yeah but I’m  _ your  _ dork. Speaking of which, I’ll let you slip and slide and ri ―” Clarke cut Lexa off with a firm kiss in order to prevent her girlfriend from ruining High School Musical for her forever, and could practically  _ feel  _ Lexa smirk into the kiss.

Dork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so for anyone who was at Paleyfest, how does it feel to have been in the presence of god herself??? Alycia is honestly the light of my life, she's so pure, so innocent (like Monty!) and so good! She seemed so genuinely surprised that people made her gifts and also her butt I ascended @ whoever was periscoping the whole thing: bless you from the bottom of my little gay overwhelmed heart. There are two prompts in line, one ft. Murphamy & Harpoe, and another one with Clarke and John walking in on one another. 
> 
> As always, comments/kudos are greatly appreciated! Come hang out on tumblr, [hedaclexa](http://www.hedaclexa.tumblr.com), to send in prompts/obsess over Alycia with me! Thanks again for the overwhelming support.
> 
> Also, I might write a Fine Stud Lexa fic because I'm absolute garbage. Anyways, till next time!

**Author's Note:**

> This was written over the span of a couple of hours and now I think the lyrics of Dear Theodosia are permanently stuck in my head. I just have a lot of feelings for Clarke and Murphy as a brotp, okay? As always, comments/kudos are greatly appreciated, come hang out on tumblr: [hedaclexa](http://www.hedaclexa.tumblr.com).


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